Afterwards
by Lafayette1777
Summary: Follows Hermione for a little while after the battle. Ron/Hermione, Harry/Ginny


Afterwords

Afterwords, she didn't know what to do with herself.

She didn't have the energy to talk to anybody, much less be polite and gracious to aggressive reporters. She couldn't stand the thought of trying to unpack her bag, going through all the unpleasant reminders of the last year, and whatever else might have crawled in there. She didn't want to sit still and think too long, if she intended to keep her sanity.

In the end, she decided on sleeping. She crawled into her old bed in the Gryffindor tower, the adrenaline of the battle worn off, she couldn't even strip down to her underwear, so she stayed in her dirty, blood stained clothes. She wondered momentarily if someone else had slept in her bed the past year, or if it had remiained empty, a constant reminder of her mystifing absence and a source of gossip for the other girls.

She drifted off in the middle of her thought, not five minutes after she'd entered the room.

In the morning, she was surprised to find that she had had no nightmares that woke her up screaming, especially since it was the first night in a year she had slept in a room without her two best friends. Thinking about them, she realized she didn't know where they were, and force of habit made her panic.

But first things first, she occupied herself with medial tasks. First order of business: take shower. Second: brush hair and teeth. Third: put on cleanish clothes.

Once that was done, she stood in the empty bathroom, looking at herself in the mirror. She looked at her bony face, pale and scarred. She looked at her torso, seeing her much to prominent ribs and grubby shirt. Her hair, tired looking with all the color washed out. She had never looked so unhealthy in her life, but then again she hadn't had the guarantee of a meal in a year. It took it's toll.

Having not looked at herself like this in such a long, she felt an overwhelming sense of self-consciousness, and her esteem for herself, which had never been really high, thanks to a certain ginger chickenshit, was lower than ever. How could she go out there and meet all those waiting people, wanting to meet the Golden Trio, looking like this? How could she go out and see _him_ like this?

She heard the soft padding of bear feet on tile floor behind her and turned to see Ginny, her eyes red and puffy, hair a mess. She looked surprised to see anyone else in the bathroom.

"H-Hermione. I didn't-...I thought..." She started but ended up grabbing Hermione in a bone crushing hug. Hermione held her close. It had been a year since she'd last seen her, everyday living in fear that she might hear Ginny's name on the missing person list, over the radio.

"I'm so sorry." Hermione said through a tight throat. "About Fred. It shouldn't have happened. It's terrible."

Ginny sniffled and let go of her. "He died for a good cause." her brow furrowed and she scowled, the tears still in her eyes. "I'm just so _angry_ that had to be _him. My _brother. I just-" She stopped talking, tears running down her cheeks.

"I know." Hermione sighed. "It's unfair, to say the least. Where's everyone else?"

"We slept in the boy's dormitory, my family and Harry. Where did you wander off too? You disappeared after leaving Dumbledore's office. Ron kept saying he needed to find you, but he didn't stay awake long. Neither did Harry. I think most everyone's still asleep."

"I slept in my old bed." Hermione told her. "It was just the first place I thought of, I suppose. Granted my brain wasn't working at full capacity at that particular moment. Do you, by any chance, know if they're serving breakfast?"

"Yes, they are. You should come with me. I need something to take my mind off things. And remind me, the next time I see Harry awake and alive, I'm going to beat the shit out of him for leaving me." Ginny said, and Hermione saw a flicker of the old Ginny beneath her grief.

c c c

The dining hall wasn't very crowded, but there was the gentle hum of voices in the air. Nobody was talking very loudly, and it seemed as though all voices cut off as Hermione walked in and took a seat. She felt a million sets of eyes on her back as she ate, and could hear the murmuring about her.

Since there was food, there was no doubt in Hermione's mind that Ron would be here soon. When he walked in next to Harry, she threw him a tiny, melancholy smile. He was the only person she genuinely wanted to talk to, or atleast be with at this moment.

They sat down on either side of her, as close to eachother as they could get. Soon they were being bombarded with questions, and they tried there best to answer as simply and quickly as possible. Luckily, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, leading a pack of tear stained Weasleys shewed them off.

"Leave them alone!" Arthur said, waving at the crowd. "At least let them breathe."

"Shove off! They've done more in the last year than most of you've done in your entire lives!" Molly screeched, with a pointed look at Mundungus Fletcher, who scurried off like a guilty rat, avoiding eye contact.

They finished up there breakfast hurriedly, Ginny pointedly avoiding any interaction with Harry. Afterwords, the trio departed from the building alone, without having to say a word to eachother to communicate they needed to leave.

Outside they lay on the grass, still wet with dew, and stared at the rippling water of the Black Lake. They didn't need words to talk to people they were so close to, not yet.

"Do ya think she'll forgive me?" Harry asked, still keeping his eyes on the water.

Hermione smiled a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Yeah, I think she will. But be prepared for some physical abuse before she does."

He chuckled, though it was hard to categorize his expression as happy. To much had happened in the last 24 hours for full emotions to form, much less good ones.

"I suppose I should go find her." Harry said, getting to his feet.

"Be gentle." Hermione called after him as he headed toward the castle. He waved over his shoulder.

And then it was just the two of them.

Hermione felt the silence weighing down on her. She had to talk to him about it, didn't she? What had it meant to him, just kissed her back because they were in the middle of war and didn't want to disappoint her? It had meant a whole lot to her.

"It was not a mistake." He said, as though reading her thoughts. "I should have kissed you first, I just never had the balls to do it."

She felt a smile on her lips on his choice of language. And the fact that that was _exactly_ what she wanted to hear right now. She had her arms wrapped her knees, and let the wind over the lake blow her hair back as she smiled contentedly at the water. Ron, who had been lying on his back on the grass, leaned up and pulled her face gently toward him with his fingertips. There lips met and she closed her eyes, feeling his hand move down her neck.

She wanted to freeze this moment. If she could do that, she could live the rest of her life with ease. With him, she could live her life beautifully.


End file.
